Intended
by awordycontradiction
Summary: Her calling stifled his fear that once Allison came back, he'd be kicked to the figurative curb.


He sat at his desk, his laptop buzzing under his wrists. He felt energized from the wild night he just had. Nothing was making sense. Scott noticed it too. The deer was just the start, Stiles could feel it.

His fingers danced across the keys, taking control, just like always. His hands were too quick for his brain. Stiles hoped that Deputy McArthur got Lydia and Allison home all right. He had a real case of making a gruesome joke out of everything and it worried Stiles with how intriguing the dead deer on the dashboard was to the young police officer. A smile tugged on Stiles' lips, knowing Lydia would never take his crap.

From his bed, Stiles heard that familiar buzzing. He looked to the clock on his nightstand, smirking. "Right on time." He mumbled gently to himself and wheeled his seat over to answer the call.

"You rang?" He drawled lazily into the receiver, scooting himself

closer to the desk again.

"This is _not_ going to be an every night thing." Lydia swore while snuggling into her pillow.

"I need to be alert for first period English. Did you know Mr. Duval quit?"

"Sure.." The boy on the other line scoffed.

"Oh, he more than quit. My dad said he was holding over a thousand pounds of coke in his apartment. Explains a lot doesn't it?" He snickered. "I'm pretty sure I told you this already."

"And I'm pretty sure I never listen to you." She baited. Stiles rolled his eyes. Lydia could hear keys typing in the background.

"What are you doing, Stiles? School starts tomorrow." She chastise.

"Oh shut it. When's booty call number _whatever_ showing up?" Stiles asked offhandedly.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "It's that Todd guy. He's number three_ and_ seven. For your information."

Stiles nodded, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder. He could hear her breathing quietly on the other end and never for a moment believed he'd be this comfortable with Lydia Martin.

"That poor deer.." He heard her sigh.

"I know. But I'm gonna figure this out." Stiles promised.

"What did I say about that, Stilinski?" Lydia snapped, disapproval masking her tone.

Stiles knew, that from now on she needed to be in the know. According to her, she was smarter than him and could probably figure out things better than he could. Stiles always snorted but agreed. It was the best thing for everyone.

"Well you're going to be preoccupied tonight and I just refilled my adderall prescription. Do the math brainiac."

Lydia laughed. "Sorry for snapping earlier. I was just shocked and my poor car – " She groaned.

"– and Allison gets all crazy when Scott's around. What were you two doing anyway?"

"I can ask you the same question." Stiles challenged. His laptop forgotten.

"Dragging her on a double date. Not with Todd, before you ask." Stiles' mouth twitched.

He hated how predictable he was. Or maybe Lydia finally entered the dark side of Stiles Stilinski's mind.

"Scott got a tattoo and then it disappeared. You know, the norm."

Lydia muffled a laugh, her eyes growing heavy. Stiles' voice was one of the last things she heard some nights over the summer break, and her body was too accustomed to falling asleep as he explained a crazy theory or told her about some of his father's more interesting cases. Lydia got accustom to Stiles and it wasn't as frightening as she'd always assumed.

Lydia's phone made a little noise that they both heard. "Stiles, it's him. I gotta go, okay?" Stiles wouldn't let himself frown.

"You crazy kids have fun." He teased. "See you tomorrow."

"Get some sleep, Stiles."

"'Night Lydia." He whispered, hearing the line disconnect.

He wouldn't let himself feel that ache. It was a distant thing. This had been going on all summer. Stiles was used to the nights when she'd cut him off, tell him she needed to go. She was with other people. Stiles understood that. They were friends. As close as friends could be. Her calling stifled his fear that once Allison came back, he'd be kicked to the figurative curb.

She still wanted to talk to him, still felt comfortable enough not to say a word and have him understand what it all meant. That was okay with Stiles. It was what he needed too. He powered down his laptop, pushing the crazy accident off until morning. He had a long day ahead of him. Stiles sensed that familiar worry.

As he settled into bed, the air still warm with summer's tinge, Stiles realized he felt happy. It didn't matter that Lydia was with someone else right now. Stiles hadn't been able to understand the meaning all summer, since he found out what she was doing, but now he could see it clearly. Lydia may have been sharing her body with some random guy. Distracting herself, as she so coyly put it. But what none of those guys had, that Stiles did, was her trust.

And he _intended_ to keep it.


End file.
